


To Eavesdrop

by EqualsTrashFlavoredTrash



Category: The Last Kingdom (TV)
Genre: F/M, Forbidden Love, Love at First Sight, making out in the cellar, not like super forbidden
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:33:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21875209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EqualsTrashFlavoredTrash/pseuds/EqualsTrashFlavoredTrash
Summary: A barmaid sees Finan and falls in love, while her sister forbids her from talking to him
Relationships: Finan (The Last Kingdom)/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 51





	To Eavesdrop

They had been there a few weeks, nearly a full turn of the moon. You worked at your family's tavern and inn, so you were quite used to strangers coming and going, usually only passing through to sell or trade in the market. These men had been spending their days drinking in the tavern and talking to locals.

“Stay away from that lot,” your sister ordered the night they arrived.

“Are they Danes?” You asked trying to get a better look from across the room and noticing the leader’s long hair. 

“They say they’re King Alfred’s men but I still don’t want you serving them,” she mumbled, crossing herself before ushering you towards the back room to work on cooking the meal for dinner. That’s when he first caught your eye, just as you crossed the threshold into the kitchen.

His hair was cropped close to his scalp on the sides, with a full and bushy beard. He wore leather armor but at the moment it was loose and undone. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from his brown ones as he lifted his mug to take a drink. Even from so far away, you felt something. Something that was pulling at you.

Over the next few days you’d watch them from afar, gleaning anything could learn about him from eavesdropping and observation, but that wasn’t enough.

You followed your sister’s orders most of the time, keeping your distance and letting her deal with them, but when the tavern was busy you figured she wouldn’t notice. 

Keeping your eyes low, you placed the new, full flagons of ale on the center of the table, reaching to retrieve the empty ones before them. You were straightening up when a calloused hand wrapped around your wrist.

“What’s your name, then?” You eyes locked with his for a second time and your mind went blank.

“Wh-what?” you replied, forgetting everything around you as you watched the way his mouth curved into a smile under his beard. 

“Your name, love,” he seemed quite entertained at your response—or lack thereof.

“Let the girl go, Finan,” the man next to him said in a bored tone, giving his shoulder a light smack. “The place is busy, can’t you see she has better things to do?” 

The Dane was not wrong, there were many other things that you should be doing, but all you wanted was to run your hands through his beard. 

Your concentration was broken by the sound of your sister calling your name. Finan noticed the change and let go of your wrist, watching as you spun on your heel and hurried off.

Uthred waited till you were out of earshot before leaning in to Finan’s shoulder, “If you get us kicked out of this tavern, you’ll have hell to pay. I rather enjoy having a warm bed to sleep in.” 

Your sister had spotted you talking to them. Although you tried to explain that you had barely said anything, and you were just filling their drinks while she was busy, she was having none of it. So your punishment was to spend the evening in the dank cellar organizing the empty casks to be picked up in the morning.

With a groan you dropped the heavy barrel by the door before looking back and realizing you still had half left to move. That’s when you heard movement behind you. Whipping around you looked to the entrance, squinting in the candle light to see who was there.

It was him, the Irishman, Finan. You backed away a half step in surprise, watching the way he raised his hands, open palmed to show he wasn’t carrying a weapon. 

“I—uh—came to apologize,” he began, cautiously stepping towards you, watching for how you’d respond.

“For what?” You asked hesitantly, fiddling with the cross that hung from your neck out of nervous habit.

“I didn't mean to scare you back there.” Finan gestured over his shoulder with his thumb before lowering his hands.

“I wasn’t scared, just nervous,” you mumbled in response, leaning against the edge of the cask behind you as you eyed his relaxed composure.

“Nervous?” he challenged, eyebrows jumping up.

“My sister told me to stay away from the lot of you, that you weren’t to be trusted.”

Finan smirked as you said that, something lighting up behind his eyes as he chuckled. 

“So yer sis’ told you to stay away and you decided to instead follow us around, listening to all of our conversations?” He took another step closer, enjoying the sight of your eyes widening with realization. “Yer not as sneaky as you think you are, girl.”

You tried to stutter out an apology and excuse at the same time but all that came out was gibberish. Finan seemed to be enjoying your distressed at he laughed still inching nearer one half step at a time. 

“My lord upstairs,” he jerked his head back in the direction of the tavern, “He thought you might be a spy, working for that decorated pigeon you Mercians have for a king, Athelred.”

Biting your lip you looked down at his chest, taking in just how close he was now, leaving you no place to escape. “I promise I am not a spy.” Gnawing at your lip, “I have never met anyone royal let alone the King.”

“So why were yeh watching us?” he asked, his voice low and gravely, no longer trying to speak form across the room.

“I wanted to know more about you.”

“Yer not a spy but you wanted to know more about us?”

“No—,” you hesitated, swallowing your pride as you realized that you would have to actually admit this, “Just more about you.”

Finan was silent for a moment, saying nothing in response to your confession. You in turn, studied the gold latch on his chest, memorizing the curves of the insignia up close instead of looking at his expression. 

Eventually he sighed, realizing you were frozen in embarrassment. He drew his hand to your face, running his palm along your jawline to tip your head up towards his. Finan wasn’t much taller than you, but still enough he had to bow slightly to bring his lips to meet yours. 

His lips were soft and warm—a stark contrast from the scratch of his beard—and you couldn’t get enough. Leaning into him, you abated as his tongue swiped at your bottom lip. The way his arm wrapped around your middle was strong and comforting, urging you to let go and melt into him as he backed your further against the barrels. Shifting slightly you moved to sit on top of the wood, widening your legs so he could find a place between your thighs as your tongues continued to dance together.

Just as you were sliding your hands up the side of his neck to weave your fingers in his hair, someone cleared their throat by the stairs. This stole Finan’s attention from you, and you couldn’t help but pout as he parted, pulling away to check over his shoulder.

It was his Lord, Uthred standing by the entrance now, giving Finan an exasperated look as he rolled his eyes. “I'm glad to see you still have your trousers on,” he stated pointedly, causing you to blush as you realized just how close Finan was pressed up against you, making no effort to move away despite the company. 

“We have to go,” Uthred continued in a serious tone when Finan remained still. “The scout is back and the time to move is now.” 

Finan groaned in response, dropping his forehead to your shoulder. You could feel the reason he had not turned to face his lord press against your inner thigh as he grumbled out his acceptance. “Ok just—just give me a minute. I’ll meet you in the stables.”

“Alright, meet you there,” Uthred agreed.

“Wait—,” you called catching his attention before he turned to leave. “My sister—uhm, did she—did she see you come down here?” Your question was timid but Uthred understood.

“No, she’s busy with two drunks fighting out front, she has no idea.” With that he turned and left up the stairs.

Once his footsteps had trailed off, Finan drew his hand up to the back of your scalp, tilting your head so he could capture your lips with his once again. 

“I’ll be back,” he promised before pulling away to follow his lord.


End file.
